


A Means to an End

by Galdr



Category: Devil May Cry, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Enemies to Friends, F/M, Gen, Slow To Update, Typical DMC violence, kind of since this is Vergil we're talking about
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-26 08:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19764139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galdr/pseuds/Galdr
Summary: She was going to use him but it turns out that he was actually using her for his own benefit.(Pre-DMC3/1/4/2, no 5 yet since I'm avoiding spoilers like the very plague they are for now, thanks. Also, this is an old story made in 2016, but I decided to just upload now because I want to have a spot for it somewhere)





	1. Premise: Robin

There was a reason she was here.   
  
It had taken time on her part to arrive to this plane of existence (it was not easy, considering she had to go through many other worlds and bypass them) and convince the people she wasn't some demon that came out of the demon world (easier said than done when she appeared out of nowhere from what was called a "Hell Gate"). They, instead, believed her to be some sorceress that could harness the magical arts and whatnot. It was partially true — she had knowledge of magic and knew how to use the basic elements and then some. She was also skilled in weaponry, such as swords and spears.  
  
For that matter, they let her be but treated her like an outsider nonetheless. It had been difficult to prove herself and hide her taint — the taint that she carried with her and one she sought to rid herself of. Something she was born to become and grew up running from that so-called "destiny." She didn't want it, and it had been sealed away for the next thousand years. When it did revive, it would need a vessel prepared to contain its power and to control it amongst the human world.   
  
The creature was malicious and destructive, it would fit right in this world where demons crossed into and haunted the humans here. Being bred specifically for that catastrophe sickened her. It made her not want to partake in having a family of her own. Her genes were priceless, and if anyone discovered she was a vessel of unimaginable power, they would come after her descendants, drawn to them like a moth to a flame. They would take it upon themselves to brainwash a child of descendants to harness that power, to claim it as their own and then subdue it to their liking. It was potentially possible all things considered.  
  
The very thought of something so evil and devious happening to someone hypothetically related to her disgusted her enough to avoid falling in love or getting into sticky situations that would cause her to reproduce. If she could end her family line by dying (or being killed by something, one of the other) then she would, no, could, save more, precious lives. Until or unless she found a way to rid of her curse in her lifetime, she wouldn't bother settling down.  
  
The devil incarnate she was bonded (or, bounded to) she could still sense slightly, on the surface. It was forced to sleep, its power sealed, but its dark, evil energy was seeded into her anyhow. Its soul and heart were hers, no matter how she defied and denied it. She was many worlds away, but she could still feel it. It was a strong, magnetic force, the one that she strove to divide herself from. She devoted her time to break the bond.  
  
This was her reason for traveling into different worlds using the outrealm gate. The old man that lived there (Old Bubba, he called himself) had been very generous and helpful in guiding her to a world of a hero, one that stood up against demons to protect humankind. He believed her plight could be resolved here and she felt it would do her good.  
  
She promised her friends she would come back, even if she couldn't find the results she was looking for. It was hard to say farewells to them but she wasn't saying goodbye forever. No — she would come back, even if she had to drag herself from the dead.   
  
Thankfully, the place she landed in had some helpful people — Fortuna. Those that worked in this Order of the Sword and worshipped this idolized god called Sparda. She was inclined to believe this benevolent god was similar to the deity her friends had revered, called Naga (Even though Naga herself claimed she was just a Divine Dragon and not a goddess, but the people believed otherwise). The tale woven around this legendary "Dark Knight" was quite interesting, enough for her to spend a few moments of her time to research and explore. She didn't get much out of her search but found out enough to piece this "god" of theirs together: he had defeated the demon emperor called Mundus, in a stand for humankind — she recalled that from Old Bubba — and sealed off the demon world from the human one for two thousand years. Afterwards, he had taken a human wife and had two sons. Who the names of the wife and sons were, they were never written down.  
  
Intriguing though. It would make those two cambions, if she researched correctly. Half-devils, like her two friends' daughter and son, were half-Manakete (Dragon) and half-Taguel (Rabbit-like creature), respectively. But, it was also puzzling. These people worshipped a demon as an idolized god? Seemed odd and peculiar, but she could see how they came to that conclusion. The man — devil, pardon — had fought for their kind and ancestors because of a choice he had made on their behalf. If someone were to be saved by another, they'd likely be "in their debt" for the save. These people, from how she could gather, seemed to feel indebted to the sacrifice Sparda had given them in their stead. No wonder they were inclined to hero worship him.  
  
But, to her, it seemed a little bizarre than that. Looking from outside and into it as an outsider, not one raised to believe all the mumbo jumbo too much without a skeptical eye, the revering the demon appeared far too insane. And that was putting it lightly. The Order of the Sword took care of demons that would manifest to cause destruction. They did it in a likeness to reflect Sparda, which seemed honorable. When she saw demons attacking, she assisted as well, using her magical and physical prowess to protect the innocents from danger. But the rest? Seemed fanatical to her and boy, was she intimate (not by choice) with cultist fanatics for a demon. Except, this one wasn't trying to revive himself using vessels or power and had actually done good for others' sake than try to take them over like this Mundus did.  
  
That put positive points for Sparda in her books, and she learned to be grateful such a man (could he be called that?) came to aid of humans and protected them those ages ago. But was she going to sit down and pray to this not-as-holy being? Ha, think again.   
  
And perhaps her refusal to do so earned her many glares and distrust from the populace when she ever (dared to) showed her face to the outside. Many times had she tried to leave Fortuna, but they (read: council and other important figureheads) refused to let her leave. She didn't understand — there were vessels leaving to and from Fortuna, possibly supply ships that could take her to the mainlands, she had discovered easily that existed, but they still denied her access. It'd only been a month's time since she first arrived, going on a second, and what she sought couldn't be found in Fortuna. Perhaps, what she sought was outside the place but without permission of leave, she was stuck here.  
  
She often wondered if it was because these people knew she was a sorceress — one that had healed someone as discreetly as she could but had been found out anyway — and hadn't wanted to release someone would could be valuable to them. Well, in her own words, they didn't seem to like her much and had nearly branded her a demon when she had first arrived through (what should have been closed) a Hell Gate. It wasn't her fault the Outrealm Gate was connected spiritually and physically to other, possible, likeminded and traversable gates that connected realms together.  
  
Speaking of... No one questioned her anymore of her origins, and she sure as hell wasn't going to divulge that information to anybody. They had tried to interrogate her, but she flipped the metaphorical tables against them. It hadn't been easy, but her tactical mind worked into goading them into releasing her. They'd kept many eyes on her and she remained compliant — with a few things that wouldn't contradict or reveal personal information — with them and followed their little rules. She earned their trust, but now she couldn't leave? It felt like giving a dog freedom from the leash but giving it ample room to run around and still blocking it in with fences.   
  
Still, the very least they could do was let her into a better library. The local one only had so much information, and she heard that there were better ones holed up in the castle. She had no idea how to get there but she'd seen it in the distance. How could anyone not? It loomed over Fortuna like a protective mountain. She needed some spell or ritual to get rid of the bond she was forcefully bonded to. She was still young, about her early twenties, and wanted to spend every waking moment in her life to research the ways to free herself. But, with higher ups telling her, practically, "no" and forbidding her to leave, there was nowhere to turn. No one would help her, considering she was strange and an outsider to boot, and fighting off the demon swarms when they appeared could only hold off her frustrations for so long.  
  
She needed an outlet, a way to get what she needed. In her state of mind, she wouldn't mind using someone to get there — though, that very thought sickened her and she pushed it out of her mind. No, she wasn't that desperate and she couldn't be. To use someone for the sake of her own rise and benefit? That was disgraceful and dishonorable. No, there had to be another way. She had to wait and bide her time — something would come, miraculously, she hoped. She didn't pray to Sparda, but she wished upon Naga to grant her the much needed wish to her problems.   
  
Deep down, she wanted a family like her friends had. She wanted to embrace motherhood and to have a loving husband and children she could raise. She had her family robbed of her before she knew it — her father, not much of one, was a sicko psycho that had wanted the power she inadvertently inherited, but had not matched up to the demon's soul like she had, trying to force her into her destiny and her mother, the woman she barely remembered or knew, been gone out of her life — She had no recollection of her past memories; they'd been wiped out because her future counterpart decided it was fine and dandy to try and merge them together, but her conflicting spirit had thwarted it without her knowing and wound up an amnesiac. She often wondered if she originally tried to run from her "destiny" to become one with that demon.  
  
Still. What she truly wanted couldn't be had because of the curse she had been born with. She did not want to pass it on to potential descendants and she would be damned if she did unintentionally. This was why her genes were priceless to anyone that discovered this about her. Any demon, or corrupted human, worth their salt would do whatever it took to deplete it from her. It was her job to guard it — in several ways. It couldn't get into the wrong hands ever and she would rather kill herself, and destroy that which had her soul bound, than let someone take it and become corrupt themselves. Her own willpower had barely bested that demon and with the power of her friendships and bonds with her comrades, she was able to defeat the demon's words of destruction. Her friend used his blade to seal it away because she had been afraid of her duty to destroy it, once and for all.  
  
She'd have died right along with that thing. It seemed selfish, on both ends. She would be selfless and selfish, had she delivered the final blow like she originally intended to do. She would have died, faded away, never to return to her cherished friends. But, when the Awakened form of the blade had pierced the demon and forced it to slumber under Naga's power, she had been selfish to remain alive but still under its vexing curse, the brand still alive on her hand. Rather than be done with the beast forever, it would likely come back and haunt the next generation after its thousand year slumber. Peace would only be temporary.   
  
Shards of the cultists could breed another vessel for it, should she die anyway. It would come back, whether they liked it or not. But still, while she lived, its power was technically hers. It would unlikely to let its current and alive vessel to die that easily — she may as well be a demon herself for holding up the power she would never take unto herself. She was human all the way, but a vessel for a demonic creature, a dragon to be exact. It wasn't easy for her to leave, to sleep, without knowing those six, red and eerie eyes were watching her every move.   
  
She didn't want that for her hypothetical descendants. And this is why she wished hard for an opportunity to come to her. Either to leave this damn place or get to those supposedly better libraries in the castle that evaded her so. Or — and maybe she was pushing it — maybe both! Get to the library, take some texts, or read them to get a glimpse of what she could do, and then leave. It was a stretch for that and the chances of it happening were slim to none.  
  
Boy did she get her wish a month later, but not in the way she expected it. It all started when she saw him — the man wearing blue.


	2. Premise: Vergil

There was only one reason he was here.  
  
This place, apparently, was supposedly where his father had lived and ruled over a long time ago. He had saved humankind, and sealed the Hellgates here. From what he had learned so far, these peoples' ancestors had been trusted to protect and keep the Hellgates secure by his father. It was a task they took to heart in that vow.  
  
Now, the people here live in peace, quaint and tranquil. It didn't bother him any — he came here to follow his father's footsteps, to find anything he could learn more about the devil that sired him.   
  
Fortuna.  
  
He had exited the docks of Port Caerula and found his way into the city. It was a little old fashioned compared to the semi-metropolis that was Capulet, on the mainlands. His strides were paced evenly and he seemed to take his time. The sun was out and shining above him and the buildings on either side of him. Cloaked in a ragged, simple, long, brown cowl from head to toe — as long as it could get — he strolled through the slightly barren streets towards his first destination.  
  
Of course, he would have been if he weren't surrounded by enemies. He hardly paid them any mind as they were insignificant, but when the few citizens spotted them, they screamed and fled the scene. He could only smirk to himself and leer at them. It was typical human behavior. The demons that spawned — _strangely; weren't the gates supposedly sealed off?_ — around him were nothing but Scarecrows. He tsked to himself and remained motionless to the crowd of them.   
  
It was a second later they reared their arm scythes and pounced at him.  
  
At that very second, he tossed up his cloak, revealing what he wore and hid underneath; a dark vest with an intricate, ruffled-like tie beneath it, a long, blue jacket with three slits running down to separate it, dark green pants and brown boots. Bronze colored half gloves decorated both hands. His silvery white hair was pristine in the blazing sun as it bored down upon him and complimented his fair skin complexion. His blue eyes were narrowed as he drew a longer-than-average katana from a sheath he held in his left hand. Watching every movement of the Scarecrows like in slow motion.  
  
The prompt to attack was not needed. He quickly knelt into a stance and proceeded to retaliate with ease against these nuisances.   
  
He wove through them like silk threads, tearing and shredding through their bodies with ease. His blade speared and pierced, allowing him to flow from one opponent to the next. Blood spurted and exploded from them when the long blade swiftly decapitated them or bisected them. He didn't feel anything from felling them — he just moved. He captured three in a repetitive movement of his sword, rapidly slicing and dicing them up like a butcher would do a slab of meat. His senses pointed to him there were more of these demons behind him. Hmph, no problem.  
  
As he finished off the next and leapt, mystical, blue swords of what appeared to be magic appeared beside him. Rather than face the direction he was facing, they reversed and fired off towards the Scarecrows that were foolish enough to attack him from behind like cowards. The twelve, magical swords struck, impaling the demons and he swept them off with three swipes of his katana, finishing them. It didn't appear they had enough, as dozens more were above him, falling like rain.  
  
They want rain? He'd bring the rain, all right.  
  
He was gone in a flash and the demons crashed to the ground together. He was above them for only a second before lunging down himself, a multitude of the same blue magic blades from nowhere raining down upon them like hail. Except, this hail impaled them unlike how the chuck of hail blocks would have been. The irritating things screeched in pain but it was of no concern to him. He ended their misery quickly, avoiding the geyser of blood exploding from their corpses.   
  
He landed easily to the ground, slowly sheathing his sword as the sun lit his features more.   
  
However, as he mercilessly killed them all off, something was amiss. He felt it and sidestepped the cretin as it landed close. Readying his blade, he shot the demon a glare that promised its end; This would be an easy kill.  
  
For an easy kill, however, it was destroyed when a blazing, torrent of flame ignited from behind and singed it. Of course, he avoided the blast itself and teleported to another location swiftly as he sensed the oncoming attack. A brow of his raised in slight; magic. Only demons had knowledge of magic and, on the rare chance, human sorcerers could perform magic that was on level par with demons — though it took ages of research on their part and the study of demonic language and practices. Humans weren't normally in tune with the elements like demons and their celestial counterparts were, but that didn't mean they couldn't be born with the innate ability or learn to grasp it.  
  
He was hardly surprised to find a sorcerer in this island city. He was hardly surprised that it came from a citizen here.  
  
His eyes found the one responsible just meters away. It was a female, he could tell. Unlike the others of this place, she dressed differently. Her cloak was a dark shade of violet (not really surprising) and the cowl over her head shaded most of her features from view. From that, he couldn't tell what exactly her features were, but if he weren't staring closely, he would have missed the white tresses of locks that hung around her partially exposed neck and shoulder blades. Her hand was outstretched and he could detect a magical glyph had been where she had called forth the magic. While interesting in and of itself, her image wasn't interesting enough to warrant his attention.  
  
In technicality, she "saved" his life. It was an unnecessary save, really; he was capable of handling that demon. It didn't bother him any that a human — he could detect she was although there was something strange in her aura as well — would save him, or foolishly believe they did. The only credit he would give her is her knowledge in the magic arts, which were no small feat in and of itself. Whether she learned the natural, tedious way or through heinous rituals weren't his concern.   
  
As he raised his hand to catch his cloak he had thrown up, he narrowed his eyes once more. Another Scarecrow demon — likely the last of its brethren — was descending towards the female. It was one with the scythes on the legs. He noted that, as it drew closer, she tensed, as if she sensed it. Humans could detect things supernaturally if they were well in tuned (not always likely) or if their own, natural senses triggered when something wrong is going on (almost always). His designated frown didn't leave his face as the cretin was impaled.   
  
The female had turned with a blade drawn but the demon was already pinned by a magical, blue blade. He casually strode towards it — not the female — his cloak in one hand and his sheathed blade in the other. He didn't utter a word as he teleported to the creature and swiftly dealt a blow to it, destroying it.   
  
He knew she could have killed it easily, or at least dealt with it on her own. But, the opportunity to "pay back the debt" was all too easy to fulfill. She had "saved" him, possibly knowing he could handle himself. Likewise, it was only fair to "repay the debt" and he didn't waste that chance when it graciously showed up. Now, they were even.   
  
He didn't bother looking back — he knew the female had watched him and had seen him. He swung his cloak over him casually, covering himself as he continued into the city's heart. Strangely, the citizens must have known it was safe to come out of hiding and continue their day as if they hadn't been on the breach of a demon attack. He strode past them, keeping his head down as his own cowl sheltered his hair from being seen by the populace.   
  
It was strange how demons appeared when the supposed Hellgate was sealed. Did these people break their ancestors' vow to Sparda? Was it a result to the main seal weakening slowly to the demon world? He could only theorize. If these were true, then, he didn't have much time. Someone was responsible for these demons appearing like they are in this city. They weren't keeping their vow and, while it didn't outwardly show, he was angered. Humans, typical and despicable.  
  
It was a wonder he cast aside his humanity and relied on his demonic half.  
  
He knew many things he had wanted to do since that awful, fateful night. The night that changed his whole world. He wanted power, the power of his father had used once a time ago. The power he used against his enemy those ages before. In order for him to find it, he needed to travel to places that his father had been. Perhaps, by going to these places, he would be one step closer to obtaining it.  
  
After all, without power, one could not protect anything, let alone themselves.   
  
He sought after his father's power for many reasons. To have control, and to rule both the human and demon worlds. Through this control, he would be powerful, and he could reign over them. Anything he would not like, he could destroy it. To have such immense and potent power, he could also protect himself and the last one he did care about. That bond they shared, he had severed it a long time ago, but he could always feel it faintly.   
  
That day he lost everything, he vowed to exact revenge. And he wouldn't rest until he had the power to do so.  
  
In doing so by following his father's footsteps, he would be able to have enough understanding to contain that power and have his vengeance. When he had it, he would take the reigns of the demon world, and through this might, he could take over the human world. With his reign, he would be able to protect himself and that last one he cared for. Through conquer, he could do it and it would be the only thing that mattered to him. With his reign, he could watch the humans and demons easily; if they so much as tried to harm the last one he cherished — he would never admit that out loud — he could stamp them out before they touched a lock of their hair. In this essence, in his dream and pursuit, he needed that power. In order to fulfill this desire, he would not rest until he succeeded.  
  
He would have to make sacrifices for this endeavor, he reasoned. If he had to be seen as an evil entity, a young man that was just making eighteen, as someone that couldn't be trusted. If he had be perceived as the bad guy to thousands, then he would stake his chance. It didn't matter to him what others thought of him. He was on a mission and he would stop at nothing to achieve it.  
  
However, he first needed to find out what this place, Fortuna, was truly up to. The demons attacking had caught his suspicious eye, and he wasn't leaving until he had answers — or reasons that could be tied closely to them. Once he found them out, he had a feeling he wouldn't like them. He had just bypassed the statue of what appeared to be his father's devil form not long ago. He eyed it strangely for half a second before drifting his gaze to something else.   
  
Yes; this place indeed need some investigating. Something felt wrong here, and he knew to trust his instincts. They hadn't led him astray for the past ten years since THAT incident. The only issue was how he could go about this investigation and his research thoroughly at the same time without looking suspicious himself. While he normally wouldn't have cared about something trivial, he would prefer to do it without causing much distress to the populace. The less who know of him and his appearance here, the better.   
  
Revealing who he is was out of the rhetorical question. That would essentially dismiss his initial ideas to go, basically, "undercover." No, he needed another means to go about this.   
  
He bypassed an old fashioned car and led towards the Opera house where there was, apparently, a sermon going on. He entered inside the building discreetly, standing by as he listened. The iciness of his blue eyes crystallized as he listened to ten minutes of the sermon being preached by the, apparent, holy man at the podium ahead. Several cowl-headed people were here, and knights of the Order — Order of the Sword — were stationed around dutifully. They all bore the same insignia on their clothing and armor. It was no surprise he deemed them as fanatics. What he overheard was complete garbage that not even a sewer rat would want to dine on.  
  
He gathered enough from that sermon and walked out, unable to listen any further to it. It disgusted him — they referred to Sparda as a "savior" and while he knew the devil himself had stood up for humankind, protected them and sealed off the demon world after defeating the Emperor of the demon realm, Mundus, these people were doing far too much. He reasoned that easily just from listening to ten minutes of the preaching. These people not only idolized and elevated his father as a godly figure, they worshipped him. They believed him to be, literally, a savior, and they devoted their time and energy to be likeminded as Sparda was. It slightly confirmed that the demon himself had ruled over Fortuna for some time in the past, which caused these people — fanatical cultists, he reminded himself — to see him in a different light.  
  
It was one thing to be appreciative of being saved by someone a long time ago. It's a whole other thing to hero worship a demon as a god. It was, quite frankly, puzzling and infuriating. As a son of the so-called revered devil that knew him on a personal standing, he was disgusted. It was the type of revulsion that would repel demons away from purified places. If he weren't handicapped to time constraints, he'd gladly remind them of who the true Sparda was and put them in their place.  
  
But, that wasn't to be. He would have to put his heavy dislike on the back burner for now.  
  
How to go about his research and investigation. He'd only been here a day. He would need a guide, one that wouldn't rat him out. He didn't need that hellish hero worship from these people should they recognize him as a son of Sparda — heavens forbid that. Who knew if they knew what Sparda looked like in his human form. There was a chance — possibly a fifty-fifty — that some would know, either by painted pictures or otherwise told through stories from the generations. Either way, it wasn't a great ideal to reveal himself here.   
  
As far as he could tell, only one person had seen him without his cowl. It was that female from earlier — and given by the general populace's lack of acknowledging his presence, he summarized that she didn't tell anyone of his appearance. That would prove useful in the long run. He mentally gave her more credit for her subtleness. Unless, she had told someone but kept quiet. Who knew.  
  
What he did know, was that miracles truly did happen. He'd thought he'd have to go on a wild goose chase, but the object of his meager thoughts had arrived. Of course, the female was a sore thumb in this island city. The only one who wore a violet cowl. Granted, he was the only one wearing a brown cloak and cowl, but that was beside the point. Normally, he wouldn't go to anyone for advice — he would seek out the information for himself, especially in unknown places like so. But, for the better of keeping himself concealed, he would need to, for lack of better words, act the part that he needed assistance.  
  
He did need it a little, he would admit only to himself.  
  
Taking strides carefully through the citizens mulling around, he followed her gait, watching for anything suspicious along the way. Zeroing in on her aura alone, he ignored those that got in his way, sliding through small time crowds as he advanced with a pace. It seemed the female didn't sense his presence, nor had she sensed she was being followed. Passersby all around seemed none the wiser, which worked to his advantage.  
  
...But perhaps he had thought too soon. The female, barely, paused in her steps, then continued at a slightly quicker pace. Hm, not bad. She must have finally sensed something was amiss and sped up. He didn't worry and still followed briskly. His gaze spotted her form squeezing through some people and — hm, she was gone. Tactical little rat, he thought as he paused momentarily to gaze about, tracking her faint aura. She had given him the slip, but not for long. He smirked inwardly when he found it again and adjusted his direction and pace.  
  
He followed and would give her more credit for managing to slightly aggravate him in her subtle tactics to trying to get him off her tracks. Key word there being trying. He was careful to conceal his presence, and she was a crafty one for a human. A human that had an aura unlike those he sensed so far — but that begged to differ, as he had bypassed some knights of the Order, and they had felt strange. When she seemingly tried to retrace her steps in a different way, he acted. No more games.  
  
When the people appeared to lessen out and thin in an alley in the city, he had teleported and caught her momentarily off guard before he saw her draw her weapon. He analyzed it briefly; a sword crafted from the finest silver, but appeared to emanate lightning properties. Slightly intriguing how a human possessed such a weapon. A Devil's Arm, perhaps? Quite likely. He took intimidating steps forward. The female remained where she stood; he could see a frown marring her face from what he could see. While not one to get into others' "personal space," he wanted to play the role of an intimidating, controlling individual. It was the only way to get humans to cower under his presence.  
  
The female didn't cower, but she did take a step back and her grip on her blade tightened. He paused and narrowed his eyes at her as, behind his own cloak, his grip on his sheath tightened a bit as well. If this woman did anything he didn't like, he would cut her down instantly.  
  
"What did you need from me?" Her first question. It was not a "who are you" or a "why are you following me", questions that one would be asking someone who was, essentially, stalking them. Not quite strange enough for him to add her to his small list of peculiar attitude or the like.  
  
"Your assistance." His reply, smooth, even and firm. There was a brief pause, the female didn't put her sword away.  
  
"There are thousands here that could assist you in what you might need," she stated evenly. "Yet, you seek only me. That makes no sense."  
  
Of course it didn't, not in the human sense, it did not. He was, finally, able to see a glimpse of her eyes from beneath the cowl that still shielded most of her features. Dark brown eyes that spoke volumes to him. He knew, without a doubt, there was knowledge behind them. Knowledge he could find useful and use it to his gains. Much faster than he initially thought. Perhaps.   
  
"None would be as useful as you are, my dear." Time to charm it up. Women did find him attractive, humans and demons alike. He usually ignored their remarks and compliments, uninterested in their personal conquest and gains to bed him. He had led a false relationship once or twice before, only to crush her emotions at the end. He was only using her for his quest and she had proved herself until he no longer needed her assistance. Discarded without a care — this female would be the same when he was done with her.  
  
"Your words of flattery won't get you nowhere." Sharp reply for a female of sharp wits, he could tell. It was amusing how she defended herself.   
  
"I beg to differ, my dear. You're the only one that can assist me in my quest." Not a lie but not a truth, either. A half-truth; it depended on the wealth of knowledge she had behind her. His towering and imposing figure stepped forward again and she inched back some.   
  
"Find someone else. I'm not interested."  
  
"There is none I can trust that will not reveal my true identity." The full truth there. It was time to reel her in with truths and half-truths. She was a sharp one, indeed, able to deflect his words away and focus on the real game. A mind that was tactful and focused. A rare find in a human. "It has been an hour since our last encounter. You had time to tell everyone in your vicinity of my appearance. Yet, it seems you keep it under wraps. Is this not true?"  
  
The female's breath slackened for a bit — a gasp. He knew he hit the mark with that and had caught her in a trap. It would not be hard to keep her in that place. But, it seemed she was impressive and witty as him.  
  
"How do you know I haven't spoken to anyone yet? I could have informed anyone of your identity in that span of time. Are you sure you want to put your faith into someone like that?"  
  
Ah. She was trying to wiggle free and reuse his trapping tactic against him. Clever little witch, but he was easily one step ahead.  
  
"You would be lying through your teeth. Your body posture spoke otherwise. You nearly convinced me you were speaking truth, but you cannot hide your lie. You have yet to tell anyone of me."  
  
"Are you so sure about that?"  
  
"That I am."  
  
There was another pause, that only their breathing was audible. The background noise of the populace was ignored. Eventually, the woman lowered her blade and placed it in its sheath at her hip. He couldn't help but smirk at her gesture — it was a sign of surrender and admittance.  
  
"I will take that as your admittance to the truth."  
  
"I do."  
  
Another bout of silence surrounded them. The female sighed. "I won't ask you for your name and I won't tell you mine-"  
  
"I do not care either way."  
  
"-So, at least tell me why you think you need my assistance."  
  
She apparently ignored his interruption and continued on anyhow. Recalling one of the locations he bypassed earlier, he stepped back and nodded in understanding. It wouldn't do to have his future accomplice in the dark. Too much, at least. A condensed and forged version of the story would do. The human female didn't need to concern herself in his business and he wouldn't allow her to.  
  
"I am searching for clues about Sparda," he started, noticing she was attentive, "I learned this place was where he ruled over a long time ago. It would assist me greatly." He left out a lot of things but, again, there was no need to include her. She was nothing more than a pawn he would take advantage of to get closer to his desired goal. The female pondered it over for a brief moment before shaking her head.  
  
"Your response is vague," she replied. "I am wary of your decision to pursue this, however, you have me caught. We'll see how this goes. Now, what information do you want to know for your search?"  
  
Smart, little female. He had to tread carefully if he wanted to be one step ahead of her. He could see she saw through his ruse but didn't speak of it entirely. That was fine by him for the moment. He considered his answers briefly before speaking of one that would garner her attention, tell half the truth and swing her to his side (unintentionally, he'd wager) in one fell swoop.  
  
"Someplace that will guide me to his true legacy."  
  
He was starting to like this little miracle he was given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully not too OOC here; I've tried to emulate Vergil as best as possible as well as Robin from the games they came from. 
> 
> Enjoy.


	3. Premise: Immovable

She stared at his back as he led them to the local library, the starting point of this research for Sparda's legacy, at least, what he had done on this island, Fortuna.

In all honesty, she couldn't believe he baited her with a trap and caught her in a web. He'd done it with no effort whatsoever. He could see that she harbored some dark aura under the aura that pertained her as human. How could he have? Was he just sensitive to auras? Like how mages back in her home world were capable of sensing magic before it was cast? It would make sense; this man didn't appear to look like one capable of doing that but then again, who was she to judge?

Not only that, she was a little apprehensive to him sensing what else her dark aura had been underneath. She wondered if he knew. However, she wouldn't push it or press it. What he discovered about it so far was scratching the surface of the full truth anyhow.

How he ensnared her into his trap was clever an dirty. She didn't understand what he meant when he mentioned that he would be accepted should his identity be revealed, but knew it was risky when he tagged on hers. She was already the outsider, one that couldn't leave strangely. Anything else that could give these people more incentive to not trust her anymore than what they did (not much) would definitely lead to bad news. With her having a demon's aura (not her fault) underneath her human aura's layer would be convincing enough to warrant her elimination.

These cultist and hypocritical fanatics were opposed to everything demonic and wouldn't hesitate to slay it. She had seen the Order's knights come up in defense of the citizens were attacked by demons that would randomly spawn. They were ruthless in their sword strokes.

Not only them that she was wary of, this man that had backfired her own plan against her, was also strong. Very strong. She could just feel it from him. It rolled off him like imposing waves, yet she couldn't be afraid much. Maybe, it was the dark aura in her that she feared much more than this young man's own. That didn't seem reassuring in any way whatsoever.

Regardless, without a chain and leash, he had effectively captured her in his trap and she wouldn't be able to flee or free herself. It was awful to have her plan backfire on her like that. He seemed to have enjoyed that, too.

Since they were indoors, they could remove their respective cowls. She knew what he looked like but he hadn't completely seen her face at least. When she removed it, he only raised a brow — probably the most she would suspect as surprise for him. Did her appearance disgust him?

Her hair was tied into twin ponytails in a reverse way, allowing it to flow down to her shoulder blades and neck line easily. The shade was silvery white, but not quite as white as his. She shared a fair complexion, just about the same as his and her dark brown eyes shone with gained and prodigious intelligence as well as experience. After all, one does not go through three wars back to back without having something from all the constant fighting and contingency planning. If her hair wasn't already white, she was sure she'd have all kinds of grey hair littering around her scalp.

She wore her usual spaghetti strap tan tank, however, to keep herself with the norm here as possible, she had to shell off some of her usual attire to avoid being seen as different. Considering she wore cream colored pants and dark brown boots as well as intricate half gloves, it was no wonder she was still the odd ball of the pack. Every female in this island city wore dresses. Sure, she admired dresses, but she was a warrior before she was a dress up doll. She couldn't nor wouldn't be able to fight well in something so constricting and form fitting. She was every way different. With weapons on her person and knowledge of magic — she was indeed a sorceress in some way.

For some reason, maybe it was her hair color that shocked him, if that was possible. How could her appearance throw him off anyway? He seemed like a wall, a wall that could talk and lure people in how he wanted them to.

"I would appreciate it if you ceased staring at me."

She blinked and stopped her pondering. She forgot she was staring at the back of his head; she idly wondered if she could mentally drill into it with her gaze alone. Did he suddenly have eyes on the back of his head, though? How did he know she was staring at him? (Or, glaring. Either one would have worked) In a light huff, she retorted evenly.

"I would appreciate it if you told me what it is you need me for."

A beat. A turn of a page from the book he was currently reading through.

"I have already informed you of what it is I seek from you."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not a very good reason."

"You accepted the invite."

The female stopped her retort on her tongue and thought. Yeah, his response was vague, both of them were. And yet, for that, she had detected a small hint of truth in them. He was looking for Sparda's legacy, or clues that surrounded it to learn about why he lived here and if he ruled here. Everything else included. What this young man was seeking, she knew some, if not all, of it. The information he sought to know. She didn't bother mentioning she had begrudgingly sat in one of the sermon lectures in order (heh, pun) to extract the missing information she couldn't get from the various texts in the local library.

Of course, it would be plenty revenge for what he forced — practically — upon her. A cruel one in fact; he didn't look like the type to sit through that garbage. Imagining the disgusted look on his face was great. Normally she wasn't one keen on revenge like so, but her tactical prowess and skills were on the line. Hm, maybe she could "get even" sometime later. Perhaps, just bide her time until the moment reveals itself.

She watched him turn a few more pages before he closed it, placed it back, and began scanning for another. If she wasn't as astute or perceptive, she would have been none the wiser to his search. However, she was, and she could see the slight frustration in his gaze as he continued looking for something specific. Brown eyes blinking, she idly took note of her surroundings (again) and sighed. It would look like she'd have to fork over the information. If he was telling some truths to his research, then it wouldn't hurt to release it to him.

She just hoped it wouldn't backfire on her again.

"What you hope to look for, you probably won't be able to find it in these texts," she started. She knew she had his attention when his brow — the one she could see — creased and then rose slightly. His hand had already picked up another tome, one that looked promising, and began skimming it. He didn't budge, but was silently telling her to go on. She took it.

"This local library doesn't have much in here, as you could tell. Ancient scripts and texts would likely be stored elsewhere, held onto and sealed away," she continued on, "Probably to keep the populace in the dark about what really went on or something sacrilegious. Either or, I'm certain." The young man leafed through his current text as he listened to her words. It appeared plausible.

"Most likely, in that cathedral in the distance."

He didn't physically acknowledge this, although he shifted another page as he read. After what seemed like minutes later, he closed it, placed it back on the shelf and strode towards the female.

"I had seen this cathedral you have spoken of when I arrived here," he admitted and hummed in thought. "It is actually a castle." He watched as her mind worked to accept the correction.

"Yeah," she mused a loud, "Who could miss it? It's not hard to spot it." He was silent again but she figured this would be a recurring theme with him. She decided to entertain his thoughts with more information. "It's guarded, more or less. But I am certain it houses information we'll both need in the long run."

Now, his icy gaze was upon her. "'We'?" He repeated. She blinked and realized her blunder. Oops. The young man stared at her in plausible confusion before it settled to his neutral expression (he hardly changed it, now she noticed). Had she been a bit careless there? Was her desire that obvious? Instinct told her to dismiss it but then he would obviously pick it apart himself later on and possibly confront her about it.

"My pursuit for further knowledge precedes your arrival," she included, seeing his eyebrows crease slightly. "I do it for personal reasons."

He was silent again before his look of indifference reappeared again.

"Do as you wish. As long as it does not interfere with my goals, I could care less."

Heartless bastard, she wanted to say but refrained from doing so. He was still a dangerous person; that unnaturally long katana of his looked deadly and he handled it with much ease. It was a terrifying thought that he could end her life in seconds should he wish to extinguish it. It was better not to provoke him and stay in his "good graces," if possible.

Before she could speak again, he picked up his cloak and swung it over himself, looking towards the exit. He now had a destination to get to and would find a way to get there. The female sat there — well, she stood up from where she had sat — and stared at him as he departed. He had been right in his assumption earlier; her knowledge, minimal or not, did assist him in a way. Now that he had direction, he was going to take it and move on.

"Hey, where are you going?" He heard her speak again, her voice a little further away as he came to the library's exit. He paused by the doorway, glancing to her direction. He placed his cowl over his head.

"Your assistance was indeed helpful. However, I have no further use of your services." Blunt and straightforward. He didn't care if she slightly flinched at his tone; nothing mattered to him at this point. He pushed the door open and stepped out. He'd have to scout around, find any way to the castle and seek out the rest of his research. Also, this would tie into his investigation of this Order of the Sword.

Before long, he heard a door open and close and footsteps following after him. He didn't bother waiting for them to catch up, knowing who it was.

"Are you going for the castle? You do realize I said its guarded, right?"

"Yes." Simple answer to the first, but not answering the second. He didn't care if it was guarded. He would find a way in. The female huffed and paused, but he kept walking the sidewalk, avoiding people's eyes. He overheard footsteps again, knowing it was her again. He just kept walking, ignoring her, even as she stepped in front of him. He didn't stop, and that didn't stop her from walking backwards while facing him.

"Yet, you're still going anyhow." She asked, though it was phrased more like a statement. Again, he ignored her and continued his paced gait, not amused in the slightest of her inquiries or the fact she was in his way. Literally. The silence around them lasted for a moment before he paused and glared down at her. She stopped herself and met his glare.

"Remove yourself from my presence. I do not require your assistance any longer, woman." His icy tone cut through to her but yet, despite herself, she remained there. She had every right to fear him and flee from his terror inducing gaze, but she would not be intimidated. She wagered she'd rather face his swordplay head on than the demon she was born to house as a vessel.

When the stubborn female silently refused by gesture alone, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "I will not ask a third time; remove yourself from my presence."

His threat went through effectively this time, though she hesitated. However, halfway from stepping aside from his path, she stopped. She took a deep breath and turned back. "You're not aware of Fortuna like I am," she started, noticing how his eyes went from blue to ice blue. "You don't know your way around, is what I'm saying. The castle is well guarded as are the normal paths taken to get there. Now, hear me out before you impale me with your sword there."

Indeed, he had his hand on the hilt of his blade underneath his cloak. He hadn't drawn it yet but had she been a second later, she wouldn't have a head on those shoulders of hers now. He considered her for a moment before relaxing his stance. "I am listening, go on."

She nodded. "I've been trapped here for a good month or two. For whatever reason they aren't letting me leave. I initially wanted to find out why but I haven't been any closer than my original goal of why I arrived here in the first place..." She trailed. When he cleared his throat impatiently, she blinked and sighed. "Apologies, I did not mean to go off topic-"

"If you have nothing else of importance to say, then you would do well to stepping aside and leave me." He promptly cut in, his patience slowly running thin.

Her mouth thinned. "Right, what I'm saying is that I could help you get there." She finally said, lowering her voice so no one would overhear. "I'm a fairly good tactician. I will say I have experience in charging into the unknown more than once without prior knowledge to the interior or exterior of the topic. I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this."

It wasn't that she was willing to join up with him to get to the castle. But, if she could put up some skill of hers that would prove useful to him for a little while, she could get in, get what she needed, and be on her way. She might not be able to leave but she wanted at least to know how to help herself with her own issue. Plus, didn't this young man want to research on Sparda's legacy that he left behind here? It would be a "kill two birds with one stone" ideal. Something that shouldn't be passed up.

"You'll be able to get what you need to research on Sparda and I'll be able to get what I need. It's a win-win situation, don't you think?"

He pondered it over for only a brief moment before shaking his head. "While you have set a premise of equal gains of an ideal proposal, you forget that you are not much of a fighter, woman. If there are, indeed, demons spawning around, they will only become stronger. You would not survive."

Was he forgetting that she carried weapons on her person?

"I beg to differ. I have experience in battles. I have encountered a fair share of demons. All of them none so great. It would be wise to not underestimate me."

He scoffed.

"The same can be said about myself. Do not underestimate me. I am far more intelligent than you may believe me to be. I will be able to find my way there with ease and without your continued assistance," he replied none too gently, "Now, if you do not mind as to dismiss yourself. Leave me now or I will move you for you. Trust me, you do not want me to move you."

The female sighed before eventually complying. "Fine. But don't say you weren't helped."

"I do not recall asking of your evaluation nor further assistance." He glared at her again. The woman shrugged and backed off.

"And I don't recall asking you to hunt me down like a dog earlier, either."

A light smirk. "Your witty remarks are starting to slack. You would do well in remembering your place, woman. I have what I need from you, do not get in my way or you will suffer dire consequences." She backed off as he stepped forward, continuing his strides through the city. Cars bypassed on the road beside and citizens walked around, enjoying the day. She watched his figure eventually disappear into the crowds and sighed.

Well, there goes that plan. It didn't matter — she didn't just sit on her butt, twiddling her thumbs for the past few weeks. She'd actually investigated a possible way to sneak to the castle to "borrow" some things from the alleged library that was supposedly housed in there. If she could get in there, maybe she would find what she was looking for. She had many plots and plans to go about it, but hadn't been able to go through it. There were far too many guards and they switched up randomly during their patrols.

She couldn't count on the randomness factor of their shifts.

Not only that, but demons spawning would likely come up. While she was sure she would be able to handle herself in that department, she was also aware they would and could come in packs. From personal experience with undead demon soldiers from her world appearing out of nowhere, that wouldn't bode well.

Hence her makeshift idea to include her personal stalker. But, he seemed to hate the idea! In her own conscious thoughts, she believed by extending a deal and offer to help him out more, he'd be all over it and actually want it. Or, at least consider it. He didn't even budge at it. What else could she expect from someone who seemed as cold as the very ice, darkness in their eyes and forming a barrier around themselves? His motivation to getting to know Sparda's legacy. She felt it was a ruse to his true intentions, ones she hoped wouldn't be troublesome later on, but that he wasn't telling the full truth.

That made her wary, but she gave him the benefit of doubt. Maybe he didn't want to reveal his true intentions in fear of them being used against him. A common tactic used nowadays. He was being cautious, just as she was when slipping out her own desire to reach the castle. Oh well. He was gone — for now. There was no reason to cry over spilled milk. She'd have to infiltrate on her own and pray it works. While she had a brilliant mind, she severely lacked in stealth. Everyone has their flaws, of course.

Maybe it wouldn't turn out that bad. She could only hope in another miracle.


End file.
